Susan Rich's Blog, page 2

How Do You Celebrate Groundhog's Day?

 

Writing Outside the Norm with January Gill O'Neil

Can I say again how thrilled I am to be teaching with January Gill O'Neil from 10:00 am to 2:00 pm on Saturday, February 5th. Yes! It's a Poets on the Coast tradition to come together on the Saturday closest to Groundhog's Day for a day of writing and community. For years, we did this in downtown Seattle, one year we went to the Two Sylvias' Offices in Kingston, and now we are coast to coast on Zoom! January and I have been friends for over a decade but this is the first class we will have ever taught together.

I also want to give a shout out to the incredible artist and all around amazing person who created this poster, Angelia Miranda. Angelia is a multi-talented poet, graphic designer, and in-line skater! (and these are just her side hustles.) Thank you, Angelia for being an integral part of the Poets on the Coast team.

DESCRIPTION:

For a poem to feel alive, to feel worth the time we spend crafting it, risk is necessary in shape, subject matter, and language. But to bring risk into our work we must write from beyond the periphery. In this workshop, we will investigate ways to write outside the norm using a wide variety of new prompts including collage, form, braiding and pojacks.

Included in the day will be a new poem packet with work from Ellen Bass, Jericho Brown, Warsan Shire, and several other poets who use nons forms to their own end.  You will leave the workshop with 6-8 new starts, but more importantly, you will leave with a toolbox of new ways to approach your own work. 


​PRAISE FOR POTC CLASSES:

"I always love "Generating New Poems," for both the prompts and the energy of the poems being born before my eyes."
                  ~ Debby Bacharach, author of Shake and Tremor, Grayson Books.


"Your workshop, "Generating New Poems," encouraged me to think about poetry differently."
                              ~ Wanda Herndon, poet

To sign-up to join us, for more information or to register click here. Registration closes on Ground Hog Day!

Happy New Year, One Day Late

Alki Beach, West Seattle, WAMy hope for you is that 2022 is full of clear skies, Olympic Mountains, and large flairs of creativity. One can hope, right? And there is new scientific evidence that we have some sway in how we perceive our year, our lives. Perhaps it's as simple as "you are what you eat" tweaked to "you are what you believe." I'm no psychologist but you can check out what Psychology Today mentions here.
Today I am grateful for the poetry books of others as well as for the wonder of my own deep revision. 
This afternoon, I'm halfway through Disappearing Queen by Gail Martin, winner of the Wilder Prize by Two Sylvias Press and I don't want it to end. The different narrative threads include the life of bees, the life of an older American woman, and the accrued losses implicit in both.
So far, my favorite poem is "Matriarch" which begins with an epigraph from the Sylvia Plath poem "Stings" and then takes six lines from Plath to rework throughout Martin's own work; a Plath line for each Martin stanza. The poem reads as a sort of nons form sestina, Elizabeth Bishop-esque in its exactitude and directness.
Disappearing Queen by Gail Martin

A tooth is just one kind of ache. O body. You are a fickle clock. Your gods fade and wane and we deal and dicker with them as if they are street vendors... from Crave
I love this attempt to bargain with the aging process, with the body that insists on surprises. The poems accrue in their wisdom and in their varied forms of knowing. Gail Martin is a poet I look forward to hearing from again.
And somehow, the day is almost gone and my poem "architectural digest, reboot" is nowhere near done; neither is "The Pickle Barrel at Morse's". Maybe they never will be. When working on new poems there is simply joy at  attempting something new; a deep feeling of gratitude for the creation.
May your creativity flair in unexpected and exciting ways; may your creativity swerve sideways or even take a small rest. I feel so lucky to be living this life as a writer and a secret painter; to be creating community and also to love the solitude. 
Wishing you a better and a more beautiful 2022 than you can imagine. 

Wishing You a Holiday of Light, Love, Laughter (and Poetry)

 

Forthcoming from Salmon Poetry, April

Hello you! Thanks for not giving up on this space. It's been more than a minute since my last posting. Why? Well, just a quick recap: one near death experience, one global pandemic, and a new website with a confusing (to me) blogging application. But I miss the sense of talking poetry with the larger world so here I am again hoping to reconnect.

Most recently, I've been reading Singing at High Altitude by Jennifer Markell. 

I've been enjoying this book not only for its strong narrative tensions but also for the way Markell moves easily between the natural world, the theraputic world, and her own childhood. Here is a poem that I think does this particuliarly well: The understated humor, the renactment of this time out of time, reminds me of Keats or Stevens. This is high lyric at its best. The poem feels incredibly contemporary but upon a second and then a third reading, it becomes timeless; a reckoning with the mind, or even the soul. Almost all of the poems in Singing at High Altitude are succint, employing only four or five stanzas to do their work. It is this braiding of the human world with "Amber and Cobalt," or milkweed and ash, that I'm most drawn to. The voice under these poems brings me new angles for looking at the world and is always trustworthy, always more than fair. I find myself returning to the poems in Singing at High Altitude that on a first look seem deceptively simple but upon a closer read are urging us to not only look more closely at the world around us, but these poems are also asking us to love it. You will want your own copy of Singing at High Altitude, published by Main Street Rag, 2021.

Tova Beck-Friedman and Susan Rich Interview: Pregnant with the Dead

 

You may remember the cine-poem that award winning filmmaker,  Tova Beck-Friedman and I collaborated on at the beginning of 2020. I did the voiceover of my poem, Pregnant with the Dead," here in Seattle at the amazing Jack Straw Productions the first week of January. This was my first experience being in a film. Well, my voice was there! And what a lovely way to begin an unlovely year.

Since then, the poem and the film have taken on a life of their own. Less than a week before we were supposed to be featured in the Visible Voices Poetry Festival we were unceremoniously booted from the line-up with no explanation. If you want the history of that debacle, check out the article in the Seattle Review of Books which provides an excellent summary of its twists and turns.

Since April, our film has traveled to / will travel into many different film festivals including, most recently, the International Poetry Film Festival of Thuringia (Germany) and the New Media Film Festival in Los Angeles for June 2021. One of the things I love most about being a poet is never knowing where my words might land. For my poem, "Pregnant with the Dead," the landings have alchemized into celluloid. 

I couldn't be happier.  To read the poem with line breaks and stanzas (!) go to the notes section of the film which you can access here.

Spend the Day with Me - Saturday, October 10th 10 AM - 2 PM

 

No matter where you are on the planet, you can come, too! I don't know about you, but I am working to fill my weekends with different things as we head into the fall and winter. I've signed up for a Zoom class

and am beginning a writers retreat (more on that later!). Writing with friends and with strangers is an exciting alchemy. I believe that the muse likes community. I've had so many poets tell me that what we do as a group is impossible to recreate by themselves. It's not just the prompts we create (new prompts each time) but the energy (stay with me) that happens when a group of dedicated poets come together. 

If that's not enough, we also will provide a list of curated journals where my co-presenter and dear friend,  Kelli Russell Agodon and I have been impressed with the kindness and professionalism of the editorial team. 

We have two prices; the first is $20 less than the second one. The catch? None. Just sign-up by October 1st and you save. Here is the link to more information and our website. 

Happy Birthday! The Wild and Wonderful World of Word Lists!

Frida Kahlo born on July 6, 1907
So this is a seemingly random posting that will show you that I am not at all tech savvy but that I am creative within my limited skillset! Today, July 12th, I am teaching a Richard Hugo House class on, you guessed it, The Wild and Wonderful World of Words Lists. These lists become my best friend when I am writing; they are useful in dozens of different ways.

I'm including if I can, a link to the handout on how to construct a word list and how it can be useful.
Let's see if I can post a connection to it Wild World of Word Lists . Oops -- not working yet. So why not just make it easy?


The Wild (and Wonderful) World of Word Lists

Why use a word list?
To jump yourself out of your default vocabulary (globe, blue, world, cream).
To create an extended metaphor --- all words about cars or dogs or water.
To make your writing more surreal
To focus closely on the language  of one subject  (anatomy, photography, cats)
When writing on a specific subject such as film (jump cut, cant angle, montage, establishing shot)


Ways to Construct a Word List

Take the last word of every line of a poem and write towards that word.
Keep a basket of words on your desk, in your living room, even the bathroom!
Notecards (keep notecards with a dozen unconnected words and one directive)
Look over the spines on your bookshelf, what catches your eye?
Look at the titles of books in a bookshop; Pegasus is posting photos of their shelves.                 
Other Sources:
Your subconsciousYour friends/students subconscious
Online Resources:
John Muir’s Lost Words Dictionary https://www.johnmuirtrust.org/assets/000/002/830/LOST_WORDS_Explorers-Guide_pages_original.pdf  Random generated lists: https://www.randomlists.com/random-verbs
Thesaurus: https://www.thesaurus.com/browse/beautiful

Recommended for Everyone! Bone Road by Geraldine Mills and Asking the Form by Hilary Salick

Bone Road by Geraldine MillsSimply put: this is an extraordinary book of leave taking and home coming. 
The lyric poems are collaged into a moving narrative of one family's journey. And while Bone Road documents the story of Geraldine Mills' great grandparents leaving the north of Ireland in 1882-84 with assistance of the Tuke Fund, this also can't help but echo peoples around the globe who are forced to leave home due to famine, war, and poverty. 
The twist in this history is that the family returns to Ireland. The faux gold of New England does not hold the family. They return to Ireland just as impoverished as when they left. What is that pull called home?  Untumble the walls of the house / Uprise its lintel from the overgrowth /...Unbreak the heart. 
Note: Geraldine Mills was scheduled to give a reading in Seattle for Highline College and Elliott Bay Books in April 2020. We have postponed her visit to post pandemic. 


Asking the Form by Hilary Sallick
Hilary Sallick is a poet whom I've been reading since the 1990's so I'm thrilled to hold this book in my hands.  This is Hilary Sallick's first full length collection, Asking the Form,  published just a couple of months ago. Rumor has it that the launch party (just shy of the pandemic) was a fabulous, well attended affair. The kind we can only dream about attending now. How I wish I had been there in Somerville that night.

The poems here are filled with piano notes and guinea pigs (one guinea pig, actually); the birth of children and the quietude of the mind. Her work reminds me of Jane Hirshfield and Jane Kenyon combined --- if they lived in Somerville, Massachusetts. This is the kind of book that comes most alive in the solitary moments that we have right now. And if you don't have quiet hours with your cats, this book will make you feel that you do.

Say What ~ Two New Poems Published in Two Days? It Must Be the Apocalypse

I'm afraid  I am giving away the limits of my tech abilities here but it seemed important to share these two relatively new poems if only to document our strange times. Both pieces were written in the first month of the pandemic that today shows little signs of abating. For very different reasons, both poems remain close to my heart. 'Song at the End of the Mind' can be found in the Cambridge (MA) based journal, Pangyrus---a new word meaning the internal continent of the mind.

The Seattle Review of Books team of editors, Paul Constant and Martin McClellan have been a dream to work with. Thank you to all the editors for bringing my work into the world especially in these most surreal times.



                                                                        to continue reading click here

Stop Censoring Your Artists: Open Letter to the Visible Poetry Project and Fractured Atlas

"Every year there are films the board ultimately chooses not to release." 
     
                  Sofia Bannister, Managing Director, Visible Poetry Project


If I had known that my poems would be subject to board scrutiny, I would not have submitted my work to the Visible Poetry Project. I am still trying to wrap my head around the fact that Tova Beck-Friedman's film was deemed so controversial as to be banned from the VPP Festival. The banning of this film is what compels me to write to you today. 


To the Board Members of the Visible Poetry Project and Fractured Atlas, (Names on VPP website include only: Michelle Cheripka and Alex Max).


In this particular historical moment when a deadly pandemic is ravishing the globe, killing people daily at an unprecedented rate, I find it particularly shameful to be censoring artists, in this case, artists who produce political work. Especially now.

In several emails I have implored you to reconsider your position. Trust me, it gives me no pleasure to write this letter. I do so in hope that you might reconsider your censorship practices in future. Otherwise, I want to alert poets and filmmakers that your organization is not acting in good faith. Nowhere in your material can i find language stating that you will pull commissioned work from the festival.

In September 2019, when I submitted my poems to you, I understood (from all the materials on your website) that if my work were selected, I would have the opportunity to be paired with a filmmaker who would create a film based on one of my poems. 

Success! I was excited to learn I had been selected by a panel of esteemed poets and that my work would be passed onto the chosen filmmakers (who had also been vetted by VPP). I became even more pleased when I was told that the filmmaker, Tova Beck-Friedman had selected my poem,"Pregnant with the Dead" as the inspiration for her film. Given that this is poem is meant to honor my ancestors and its subject is  intergenerational haunting, I was especially thrilled. 

"30 Poets / 30 Filmmakers  / 30 Days," is the tag line for your organization. I was intrigued with the elegance of releasing one film per day during National Poetry Month. What a great idea! In none of the emails I received nor in the Film Resource Packet was there any mention that the final product would be subject to the scrutiny and to the oversight of your organization. What art organization controls the art the artists produce? My work has been honored with many grants and awards, no organization has ever reneged on their agreement, until now.

It never occurred to me that the art you commission would be subject to censorship. The panel of poets and filmmakers you chose acted in proxy for the organization. My poem was chosen, I talked with my filmmaker and we were off and running. 

You supplied us with a wonderful producer for our project, Mia Shelton, who I believe works for VPP. Mia kept us on track with permissions and budgets; she also screened an early cut of the film. Her comments state that the interplay of dancer and archival footage was very effective. This was during production, and so Tova continued her work. 

It wasn't until March 31st that we learned something was very wrong. I received an email from Sofia letting me know that "Pregnant with the Dead" had been cut from the line-up and would not be shown as part of the VPP Festival scheduled to open the next day. The message that was sent to the filmmaker and myself that night was polite but obtuse. Here is an excerpt.



I am so sorry to tell you that we are unable to release Pregnant With The Dead this April. In response to the COVID-19 pandemic, we've had to restructure our programming for National Poetry Month, in an effort to bring the community of Visible Poetry Project together during this time of crisis. I know this news is very disappointing. Please know that we too are disappointed not to be releasing your film, and we hope you will understand our decision to hold onto your film until a later date. 

I reread the email several times wondering what this note could mean. At first, I thought the festival had been delayed but this was an on-line film festival; why would it be affected by COVID-19? When I visited the VPP website the festival was still there. Finally, I understood that our film being cut "in response to COVID-19," was simply using the pandemic as an excuse. There has been no further mention of finding anywhere else to screen the film. 

If the film had featured images of death or widespread illness, I could have understood the argument (not agreed but understood) however the film shows moving footage of people living ordinary lives in pre-war Europe. The dancer is clothed, her movements in keeping with contemporary modern dance gestures. The message of the poem, if a poem's message needs to be distilled, is one of hope across space and time.

Finally, after four requests for clarification on why we were cut (each one offering a different reason for dropping the film) Managing Director, Sofia Bannister, asked the board for a detailed response. The following gives the most salient details outlining your concerns.


After viewing Tova’s final cut, and having concerns about the overlay of the dancer being detrimental to the gravity of the piece, the board consulted a professor whose doctoral studies were in Holocaust cinema and who has helped us with programming in the past. She expressed extreme discomfort with the piece. This is just to say - the deliberation did indeed include someone who lost family members in the Holocaust and whose expertise on artistic depictions of the Holocaust far exceeds our own…Because, in an assembly of six people, three of whom have ancestral legacy with the Holocaust, all six found the video offensive, we determined that ratio would likely be reflected in the general audience as well.  
After consulting with a professor of Religious Studies and Holocaust Studies, we are both "troubled that people who have an "ancestral legacy" with the Holocaust are thought qualified to pass judgement on a work of art." Isn't art supposed to make the viewer uncomfortable? Isn't a collaboration commissioned by an organization meant to be supported by that organization? 

Tova Beck-Friedman's film was submitted more than a month before the deadline, why did you wait until the night before the festival to pull her work? 

A final note, from the professor quoted above, "tomorrow night is Yom Hashoah, Israel's annual Holocaust Memorial Day, observed also in many Jewish communities in the Diaspora. It is ironic and sad that on the eve of this historic date, decided upon by the Israeli Knesset years ago, (y)our own contribution to the artistic response to the Holocaust has been silenced."

Shame on you Visible Poetry Project for censoring artists and poets, especially in this time of crisis. 

If there were ever a time to support each other, that time is now. The best art pushes and challenges us to the point of discomfort. We may even find it "offensive" in the tradition of Judy Chicago's The Dinner Party or Allen Ginsburg's Howl. This discomfort is how you as board members of an arts organization reacted to Tova Beck-Friedman's film. What a pity that you weren't aware enough to recognize its power. 

With the sincerest hope that you reconsider your policies for next year and that no other artists find themselves in this untenable position. Please either stop censoring your artists or make it clear in your materials that there is an agenda that the art you distribute must follow.

Sincerely yours,

Susan Rich
Poet and Activist

The Christmas Eve and Hanukkah Edition 2019

A bit of time with Emily and SylviaIt is Christmas Eve on San Juan Island and the colored lights are visible clear across the harbor; they stay on all night long for ferry passengers, for me. This is my 10th year in this waterfront cottage. I travel north as soon as grades are handed-in to end my year with a writing retreat.

Some years things work out better than others.

While it's true that this week is the darkest time of the year with barely over eight hours of sunlight on a good day, this year's visit has included no more than a few hours of sunlight total, at the most four. I'm being honest here. A few hours of light in 10 days and most of those days beaten down with rain and high winds. Perfect for writing you might surmise. Well, you would be wrong.

And while this is a do-it-yourself retreat, in past years I've always crossed paths with a fellow poet or gone out to dinner while I'm here. Again, not this time.

As a writer, I crave solitude. It may sound strange to say but I am fond of my own company. Again, not so much these last few days. Maybe it's been the radical lack of light or the fact that I'm coming off an incredibly tough year but this visit has been categorically different than the past nine.

So for this year's topic: writing is really hard. It is not fun nor frivolous.

A poet friend and I often talk about how writing poetry gets harder to write, not easier. The voice in my head that chides, you've spent decades of your life on this and where has it gotten you? seems to grow louder with each passing year. And yes, I've been writing and publishing poems since my late twenties, the voice has a point.

I am not the next Shakespeare.

And yet. Now in the last day of my stay I can see the clipboards lined-up on the countertop with poems I've completed, poems I've begun, poems in that sweet spot in the middle---the space when I know that they will actually be completed but aren't completed yet.

I've generated new work with the help of the Two Sylvias Advent Calendar (it has a gorgeous design and presentation) and scoured my writing notebooks for drafts written over the past 12 months. And although no one would accuse me of being especially woo-woo, I've been faithfully pulling Poet Tarot cards each day and for the last three days, Elizabeth Bishop, Emily Dickinson and Sylvia Plath have all showed up. I don't know how many cards a tarot deck has (a lot) but statistically speaking, these three favorite poets visiting here everyday is against the odds.

And along with my poets, I've had visits from a family of deer, a gang of bald eagles and many birds I cannot identify but they certainly know how to sing. And I bet they aren't concerned with how good their voices sound or if the chickadee or nuthatch in the next tree sounds better.

If there is one thing I've learned is that writing poems is not a sprint but a marathon, it's a relationship developed over a lifetime with words like samovar and seesaw, atlas and archipelago. The writing of poems has made me live more intensely, persist even when there's a 1001 reasons not to, and brought incredible people into my life. And so yes, I'll be back next year. And hopefully, the next.


Wishing you peace and the gift of being seen in this holiday season